A boy called Cody
by KlappingKoalas
Summary: Scott thought everything had settled after the defeat of the Darach and the Alpha Pack. But with new threats on the horizon can he and his friends work together to survive the danger thats coming? Scott will fight the biggest challenge he has yet to face and only with the support of his pack can he even begin to imagine how he might get through this in one peice.
1. Chapter 1

Scott tapped his pen impatiently. He was slouching at the back of the physics classroom with a bored Stiles besides him. He was sat in the last class on a gorgeous Friday afternoon and could not bring himself to concentrate. One more project presentation and he would be free. He placed his pen back into his mouth and started chewing as Greenberg nervously paced to the front, some notes in his hand. The teacher looked at him apprehensively before signalling the poor boy to start.

"Err, so a lunar eclipse happens when the moon, like, goes behind the earth and into its shadow. It can only happen when the moon is full…"

Scott moaned. Stiles groaned. Greenberg droned on. By the glistening window sat Lydia, quietly playing with her hair and to her right was Allison, sitting sideways with her legs in the aisle. She turned her head to give Isaac, sat behind her, a playful glare and shook her fist at him. Her surname being Argent meant she had been the first to present her project today while Isaac, who had boasted he had not even started, would have until their next physics lesson the following Wednesday courtesy of his surname, Lahey. He chuckled and stuck out the tip of his tongue.

"So in 2013, I mean this year, there were one in April and another in October…"

April. Just over a month ago. Scott remembered that night well. He remembered sleeping well that night, finally feeling things were looking up for him and his friends, no, his pack. A serial killer had been stopped and Deucalion had fled from town with his tail between his legs. Scott still pondered why. He reasoned that once the eclipse was over and Deucalion had his powers back, he was more than a match for himself and Derek, especially since the latter's eyes shone blue again. Perhaps Deucalion was secretly grateful he survived because of Derek's intervention. Maybe it was getting his sight back. Who knew?

"Unlike solar eclipses, you can stare at the moon during a lunar eclipse. You don't need eye protection because it's not brighter or anything…"

Deucalion had apparently ditched the twins without as much as a goodbye. Neither twin could get through to him by phone and came home to the penthouse to find he had taken every credit card and all the wads of cash the alpha pack had been relying on, essentially leaving them to fend for themselves. The "dissolution of the alpha pack" Stiles had dramatically declared, with his arms raised and a huge grin plastered across his face, Scott couldn't help but return a wide smile of his own. Dissolution but not disappearance Scott thought. Ethan and Aiden had decided to stay in town, probably because here they would at least have a roof over their heads. Scott was oddly glad, he felt more secure knowing where two potentially dangerous alphas were than if they had gone missing. Much like his mother and spiders, if she could see them then all was well but the moment those eight-legged menaces scuttled under the sofa and disappeared from view then all hell would break loose in the McCall household.

"The type and length of an eclipse depends on the Moon's location relative to its orbital nodes. Unlike a solar eclipse, a lunar eclipse can be seen from anywhere on the Earth where it is night time…" Greenberg went on.

Stiles had theorised the twins still came to school for the pre-paid lunches and Scott had accepted it without much thought. He had been chatting with Ethan whenever he could and felt they were slowly becoming friends, unfortunately this was hindered by the twin's irritating and overprotective brother. Not to mention Isaac was still bitter about Boyd's death and has been doing his best to get the twins in trouble at school. Aiden had already been suspended so Isaac reasoned it shouldn't be too hard to get him expelled. The student body believed Boyd died from explosive diarrhoea and after the short period of mourning and grief came the mean jokes, much to Isaac's chagrin. He had once threatened a boy to shut up and sent him the best death stare he could manage only to be met with a cheeky "Too soon?" If Scott hadn't been there the boy would have been beaten to a pulp.

The bell rang halfway through Greenberg's presentation. After promising to meet Stiles later at his house, Scott got on his motorbike and rode to Deaton's clinic. He enjoyed his job, he loved animals. It was a short ride and soon Scott arrived at the vets. He noticed a Honda

"Alan? I'm here!"

"Really? You're on first name basis?" Scott whipped his head round to see the school's guidance counsellor sitting in one of the chairs. She had been off work due to a chest wound and only returned to her job a few days ago. She sat there staring at him, cool and collected as always. Must be a family thing Scott thought.

"Ms. Morell? You're here? Aren't you teaching? School just finished…"

"Cars Scott, they're called cars. I finished my day and got here before you due to superior methods of transport. Motorcyclists are also known as organ donors, did you know that?"

Scott winced. He didn't trust her; she had that aura of mystery surrounding her. She always felt unapproachable to Scott, an undesirable trait for a teacher. Her sass didn't help either.

"Err, ok. Is your brother here?"

"In the back, but oh look, you're early. Sit" Ms. Morell said coldly before she beckoned to the empty seat across from her. Scott edged towards it nervously before sitting down. He felt scolded, like a child and felt it necessary to subtly remind this woman that he had saved her in the past.

"So how's your breas… chest! Chest. How's your chest… You know, Deucalion's stick and…"

"Healed" she simply offered. She paused and looked Scott in the eyes before continuing. "I understand, and feel that I am no longer an emissary." Scott made a move to speak but she raised her hand to stop him and continued talking. "No no, I know you did what you had to but there is a bigger picture here…"

"You feel?" Scott butted in. Morell huffed angrily.

"Yes! If you're interested then go talk to my brother."

"What do you mean… bigger picture?"

"Do you know how and why the alpha pack was formed, Deucalion's true intentions? Ever wondered why he was so desperate for peace with the hunters, going so far as asking for an alliance?" Scott inwardly groaned, he didn't want to hear this. He was done, this stuff was supposed to be over. He wished all this supernatural crap would leave him alone. It was his fault though, he had asked her a question and now she was vomiting riddles at him. She was a teacher though and being rude to her would probably come back to bite him.

"I have a feeling you're going to tell me…" Scott mumbled. Morell sat up straight.

"He was terrified. He needed help." She paused before continuing. Scott's eyes perked up and the woman before him gave a small smirk, knowing she had his attention.

"He knew his original pack wasn't strong enough and sought out neighbouring packs to form an allegiance with his own. I'm sure you remember Ennis, Kali and you must have heard of Derek's mother. Even with the promised support from these… very powerful alphas he was still insecure, still agitated. He only told me of course, he trusted me." Morell had emphasized the word "trusted". Scott found it hard to imagine Deucalion had been scared of anything, he looked at his hands.

"Deucalion then sought out the help of those who would do him harm. This blunder cost him his sight."

"Gerard Argent" Scott piped in, hoping to give the impression he knew more than she thought he did. Morell rolled her eyes at him.

"In his despair he discovered he could strengthen himself by sacrificing members of his own, his betas. This gave him hope again; a solution to his problem. He began to create what would become the alpha pack, a pack of the strongest and most unique alphas."

Sacrificing? Create? That was putting it very, very nicely Scott thought and he couldn't help but feel impatient. "I know all this, you still haven't told me why."

"Why do you think?"

"I don't know, power? I don't really want to know either…" Scott wished his boss would come out already and tell him to do what he was being paid for.

"For safety, for protection, for the power to fight back…"

"Against WHAT?" Scott heard footsteps. He didn't mean to shout but at least Deaton now knew he was here. Morell seemed to notice this too and her speech quickened.

"Not what but who. Listen to me Scott, you may think Deucalion was evil and twisted but the truth was he was, in his own why, trying to protect us all." Scott shook his head disbelievingly but he could hear the steady beat of Ms. Morell's heart and knew she was telling the truth.

"There's someone worse out there?" Scott asked, instantly regretting it.

"Yes and he is coming here. He is already in the state and working his way to our little town…"

"What do you mean?"

"Simply he has other places to visit before setting food in Beacon Hills."

"No I mean… what is his name?"

"Cha-"

"Marin" Scott turned his head to see his boss standing behind the reception desk, his face stern and full of warning. Deaton called his sisters name softly but Scott could definitely feel the threatening undertone. Morell spared him a glance and pursed her lips.

"There's no avoiding this Alan, the sooner he knows the sooner we can prepare"

"Marin, I'm warning you. Leave. You're currently not welcome here."

Scott gripped his jeans. This was tense and he wanted more than ever to just be in the back, stroking a cat or something. The druid siblings stared at each other.

"Charl-"

"MARIN" Thundered Deaton. If she was intimidated she did not show it. Instead she rose from her chair, looked her brother in the eye and calmly continued.

"There are no longer any werewolves in Oregon."

"No, how could you possibly know…"

"Ask your little protégé, he can tell you if I'm making this up."

"Marin please…"

"Just like a few years ago, packs completely vanished from Nevada and not long before that Utah's wolves suffered the same fate." Morell folded her arms. Deaton fell silent.

"California is next, Alan. Deucalion never had time to even complete his pack; he wasted an entire summer gunning after the pitiful remains of the Hales."

"Careful Marin…" Deaton said.

"I warned him you know, not to waste time here. He should have listened. Now, there is no alpha pack." Morell spat bitterly. "No soldiers to hold back the tide."

Scott had been growing increasingly confused and more and more desperate for his life to remain normal. However, werewolves being completely wiped out of some states? Surely that's impossible. Hunters have a code right? Even without one they weren't that efficient. Maybe it was a natural thing, maybe the packs moved away, Scott considered.

"Is this dude a hunter?"

"No, a werewolf" Deaton whispered, looking down at his shoes. Oh, of course, Scott sighed.

"Come on, we've taken everything that's been thrown at us. We beat a powerful druid! We beat a pack of alphas. How bad can this guy be?"

"Scott…" Deaton mumbled, shaking his head.

"Care to repeat the latter achievement?" Morell asked him, snidely and looking annoyed.

"What?"

"I seem to remember it was Ms. Blake who took out Kali, not you. The carelessness and nature of the individual members ensured the packs downfall, nothing I could have prevented. But here you are Scott, boldly claiming credit that it was you and your little friends who defeated us." Morell deliberately paused between each word. "Could. You. Do. It. Again?"

"Are you telling me… that Deucalion was building an alpha pack to fight an alpha pack?" Scott said. It was ridiculous in his head and even more so now that he's said it out loud.

"Not initially no. But then he believed it was the only way."

"Yes"

"Yes what?"

"Yes we can do it again. We can stop anyone who's threatening the people we care about." Scott said, puffing his chest. "I trust my friends, I have faith in them."

Morell made a face and looked like she was about to explode.

"I can't… I cannot begin to… that sheer arrogance… you! Faith? Faith?" It was the first time Scott saw her lose her cool and it was incredibly unnerving. Her body was shaking in frustration. Deaton moved towards his sister and placed his hand on her shoulder which she batted away in annoyance.

"What makes you think a handful of teenagers can handle an alpha pack, let alone two?"

"Well one of them is already finished so…" Scott stopped, realising it was the wrong thing to say after seeing the look on Morell's face. Why? How can this woman set him on edge so easily? "Err, I mean to say… we have Allison?" Scott suggested weakly, hoping to end the unpleasant conversation.

"And? So what?" Morell replied menacingly.

"And there's Isaac…"

"You have to be joking…" She butted in.

"There are the twins? They might help… well I think Ethan might…"

"More trouble than help" She sneered.

"Sis, I believe you should calm down. I have the herbs you came for. Aren't there places you should be?" Deaton offered, subtly gesturing towards the door. Scott was irritated, who was she to mock his pack, his friends and make him feel like a scolded infant. He watched as she made her way towards the door and couldn't help but try and get the last word in.

"I'm an alpha, a True alpha."

Morell stopped and for a moment Scott thought he had her. She turned her head back slowly and looked him in the eye. Her calm, collected demeanour had returned.

"Scott, you couldn't possibly have thought you were the only one?

Her last few words chilled Scott to the bone.

"Charles Alexander de Vere. He was the first."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two:

"The first? Did she mean the first true alpha? That's…"

Deaton gave a small nod, his face solemn and haunting. His sister had departed.

"How is that even possible? You told me true alphas are rare. That only one appears every couple of decades. Werewolves have been around since the Greeks!"

"He's old Scott, very old" Deaton sighed and started walking towards the back.

"Old? It makes no sense! This guy… I mean… It makes no sense!"

"Scott, you should get to work. Your shift started a minute ago"

"But-"

"Scott, stop! Give me time to think about this. We'll talk about this later, ok? Leave me be".

The way his mentor spoke stopped him. Scott could see the pain, the worry and the fear in the man's face. Deaton disappeared behind the door leaving Scott with hundreds of unanswered questions. One thing was clear though; the little window of peace he'd been enjoying was over. He rose slowly, deep in thought, and made his way into the back where the dogs were kept. Taking out his phone he dialled Stile's number.

Meanwhile:

It was night time, chilly and cold, and the moon hidden behind a curtain of grey clouds. Deucalion was fully morphed and sprinting, his desperate gasps for air giving away his location to his pursuers. He was on the motorway now, legs pumping hard. He'd dropped his sunglasses some distance back and heard the crunch as someone deliberately stomped on them. He had tried to lose the people chasing him through the woods with sharp turns but he could hear them, giggling, laughing, and right on his tail. They couldn't be more than a few hundred metres behind now. The alpha turned his head, left and right, desperate to find an exit. The bright streetlights above clouded his vision, like the fireflies had when the Darach had brought them into Beacon Hills. He now deeply regretted leaving the twins, they were slower than him. They would have caught Ethan and Aiden first, giving him plenty more time to get away. He could hear the patter of feet getting closer, getting louder. He roared into the night sky, a warning; back off. He heard laughs, howls and whoever was leading the hunt had increased his pace. Seeing a slip road up ahead, he found renewed vigour and headed towards it. He carried on, not daring to stop. Looking left he saw a residential area, full of twists and turns. On his right were hilly fields, barren and wet with dew. Hide, he had to hide. He tried to think of a plan but nothing came to mind in his panic! Leaping over a wall he turned sharply right then left and left again. The footsteps were getting louder and louder. He roared again, daring them to follow him. Right, left, right. His ears were surely deceiving him; one set of footprints had stopped entirely. Were they giving up? Had he lost them? Wait. No. He could hear something else now, more steps but it was softer, lighter. Was someone chasing him barefoot? He remembered Kali and how silent she could be when running. The little taps were getting closer now, maybe fifty yards away. No, make that forty… now thirty… now ten. Deucalion skidded to a halt. A large shape had leapt over him, blocking his path. Deucalion looked up and there before him was large black wolf, almost grinning at him. The animal's golden eyes were glaring into his own crimson ones. He was tired, the road now blocked and he knew there was no turning back. He watched, transfixed as the wolf arched his back, legs elongating, limbs widening, head tilting, fur retracting and within seconds stood a naked boy before him, smirking. He looked young, maybe Scott's age, but a person's true age is deceptive amongst werewolves. Whoosh! Deucalion ducked instinctively as something was thrown over his head. The boy now held a pair of shorts in his hands.

"Cody, cover yourself!" someone barked from behind him. Deucalion turned to see three others striding towards him, eyes blazing and claws out. There he was, in the middle of road, late at night, alone and surrounded. They charged. Deucalion roared again but this time… in despair.

Back at Deaton's:

Scott cleaned off the last bits of fur off the counter, taking off his apron and flinging it onto a chair he made his way to the reception. Understandably he hadn't been concentrating today, a cat or two had scratched him but the marks were long healed. The idea someone was purging werewolves was frightening, the way Morell spoke made it sound like Deucalion was some sort of misunderstood hero. It sounded like he was trying to prepare and fight against a great evil, an evil which just so happened to be heading his direction with no telling when. Was it too much to ask to be left alone? Big fish in a little pond sounded perfect. Scott couldn't help but wonder what else was out there? After the whole fiasco with Jackson he thought nothing could possibly top the misery it created but then came the alpha pack and not long after the frigging Darach. Now there's some super old dude coming to wreck his shit. Why me? He thought. Hearing his name being called he looked up.

"Oh hey, err… I've cleaned up. I'm done for the day I guess."

"Mhmm…"

"So erm, are you gonna tell me about this dude?"

"To be perfectly honest with you… I don't know a great deal. I mean you hear rumours and read stories but you can never be sure what's real."

Scott imagined himself rolling his eyes, he was going to get a plate full of half-truths and riddles weren't he? Maybe it was best to leave it for another day?

"My sister knows more than I do. Charles was indeed the first true alpha, as she already told you. Yes, he's been killing werewolves for an unknown period of time." Seeing the confused expression on Scott's face, Deaton jumped to conclusions. "To clarify, being a true alpha doesn't necessarily mean you're good person. The requirement is after all, through sheer will power and strength of character." Deaton beckoned Scott to sit down before continuing.

"When he became an alpha, something was said to awake within him. He developed a sense of entitlement and superiority. He usurped the alpha of his pack; some say he banished his original alpha while other sources say he was killed on the spot."

"How old is this guy? He must be ancient!"

"Hundreds? Thousands? Who knows? But I'll tell you this Scott; I've seen a picture of him." Deaton looked lost and confused before whispering. "He doesn't look a day older than twenty five."

"Is that possible? Is it him?"

"It could be his own power but maybe it's his emissary's. The point is, don't be fooled by someone's appearance, especially if they're a werewolf. Vere must be incredibly wise and knowledgeable, having survived for so long."

"But…"

"He looked at the others of his species. He saw the corrupt, power-hungry alphas, he saw the submissive betas and worst of the all the omegas. He saw how they lived their lives, grovelling and fighting for scraps. He saw them fleeing from hunters, living in filth, hiding from humans. Vere believed lycanthropy was a gift, meant for the pure and strong. He made it his personal mission to, in his own words, purify lycanthropy."

"That's insane, there's no way he can… why haven't I heard about this maniac sooner?"

"No one seems to talk about it until they themselves fall under his radar. Within the first year of his rise he massacred thousands. Many packs joined together to stop him but have failed."

"He's doing this by himself? That's…"

"I wish that was true. Along his path to achieve a perfect race he collected those he thought was worthy to be in his selfish, elitist little pack." Deaton spat. Scott could hear the pain in his voice.

"You… you've met him."

"No, no I haven't. I met a few of his lackeys…" Deaton gazed distantly, unfolding his arms and putting his hands in his pockets. "We all have secrets Scott. The Hales weren't the first pack I was an emissary to." Deaton looked at Scott sadly. "Before I moved to California I worked in New Hampshire. My first pack were not deemed worthy, they were put to the claw."

"I… don't know what to say. I'm sorry." Scott said. Deaton give him a small nod.

"I knew. I knew this day was coming; it was a matter of time. I told myself when I moved here that I wouldn't get involved again…"

"What… should we do?"

"I don't know Scott. I don't know."

Back to Deucalion:

Deucalion ducked as the first werewolf, another teenager, swiped at his head. He twisted to his right and gave his attacker a savage kick to the stomach. Taking two steps back he transformed, skin turning a dark, navy blue. Eyes shining a blood red and his claws extended. A second werewolf, slowly walking towards him, slammed her fist into a car window. She pulled out a large shard of glass, twirling it between her fingers. Deucalion decided the best form of defence would be to go on the offensive. He pounced at the werewolf still clutching his stomach but felt claws sink into his back. Stumbling forwards he saw the female launch herself at him, pointing the piece of glass directly at his eyes. He twirled to ground and rolled to the floor to avoid the attack. The girl smirked at him and the boy in nothing but shorts raised his hands and giggled as crimson liquid dripped onto the road.

"Mhmm… first blood belongs to me ahaha".

"Don't underestimate this one; he's not the others…" the woman chuckled.

Deucalion spat at him, making him take a step back, and got up. The girl slung her arm and something flew towards him. He tilted his to the right to dodge. The glass shattered somewhere behind him. He could sense them; he could hear their heartbeats were fast but steady. No trace of fear. Not good. Two of them ran towards him, the boy he kicked in the stomach and a large male, one on either side. Without a choice, he barrelled towards the smaller aggressor and managed to knock him into the air with a swift uppercut but before he could sink his claws into the boy's stomach the one behind him wrapped his arms around him, squeezing tight. Flailing his dangling legs he tried to kick his captor's knees. Crack! One of his feet made contact and the man dropped him in pain. Deucalion fell to his hands and knees spluttering for air, he heard bare feet running towards him. He tried to get up but wasn't fast enough, the boy that could transform into a wolf performed a vicious bicycle kick. His foot connected with Deucalion's chin, teeth flew out and littered the pavement. Snarling in pain Deucalion extended his arm, catching the boy's ankles before he landed and sunk his claws in. He felt the satisfying snap of tendons and warm blood gushing over his hand. The boy gasped and tried to pull his leg free only for the more experienced fighter to twist his wrist savagely, snapping his ankle and causing the edge of bone to protrude out over skin. The female was now rushing towards him so Deucalion flung the boy to the side in panic.

"Cody!" She yelled.

"BACK OFF!" He roared at her. The sheer force of his shout forced her to flinch. Taking this opportunity he launched a jab at her face, intending to force his claws through her skull. Luck was not on this side, the first werewolf had recovered from being hurled skywards and tackled him to the floor before performing a backwards leap to avoid Deucalion's leg sweep. The female growled, she formed a fist and raised her hand. She tensed and threw an earth shattering punch to the pavement, the shockwave was phenomenal. Deucalion was up and trading blows with the smaller boy. From the corner of his eyes he could see the large man's knee had healed and was rapidly striding towards him. The boy in shorts, Cody, the others called him, had dragged himself to the pavement whimpering, his injury would take longer to heal. The woman, distinctly Asian, had lifted a large chunk of the road and was ready to throw it. It call came at once; the large rock was flying towards this back, the large brute of a man lunged, claws out, for his lungs from the side and the smaller boy leapt in the air before him to perform a roundhouse kick aimed at his jaw.

Their timing was impeccable, obviously rehearsed. Had it been anyone else they would have been dead but Deucalion saw it coming. His fangs dripped in anticipation, his muscles tensed, full of adrenaline, the thrill of battle had awakened the demonic wolf inside him. Moving at unmatched speeds he grabbed the boy's leg and spun hard, smashing him into the oncoming rock. The shards of concrete and stone flew in all directions but the huge male didn't stop coming. Deucalion turned too late. He felt massive fingers dig between his ribs on both sides and gasped in agony, he instinctively gripped his attacker's arms and sunk his claws in but he didn't let go.

"Try going for my knees again, I dare you!" The man goaded and started lifting him from the ground. Deucalion spat at his face before flinging his foot towards the man's groin. Oddly he couldn't reach. Roaring in pain he tried again for the knees but found his feet connecting with air. Every second the man's claws were sinking deeper and deeper into his lungs, he couldn't heal as long as they were there. He was panicking now; he retracted his claws and sunk them back into fresh flesh. He man winced but held on. Deucalion desperately repeated his kicking but nothing connected. Blood was gushing from his chest, painting the floor a bright scarlet.

"Did you know? I'm one of the few werewolves out there that has a second transformation!" The man boasted smugly, his grin stretching ear to ear at his prisoner's agony. Deucalion gaped at him and realised the man's arms had widened and extended to the point where they were longer than his legs. The rest of the brute was dramatically changing too, his back arched, his chest bloated and his face was shifting into a hideous monstrosity. His feet had ripped out of his shoes, five razor-sharp claws on each foot digging cracks into the road. His legs had bent and grown considerably larger. Deucalion heard the rip in the back of the man's jeans as a haired tail poked out. The man's head was now more wolf than human. Hair covered the huge beast from head to toe. The monster thrust his arms even further into Deucalion's chest.

Deucalion's vision had gone blurry. He was foaming blood at the mouth. He was losing blood too fast. He vaguely remembered being told by a good friend her younger brother, Peter Hale would be able to transform like his killer if he ever became an alpha. He tried to take a breath but found it too painful. His arms fell limp by his side. His head rolled back, the night sky filling his vision. His eyes darted desperately from side to side, hoping to glimpse one last look at the moon.

"Cody!" The woman barked somewhere. "Do it!"

The other boy had helped Cody up and together they were limping towards him. The huge monster lowered the dangling body embedded on his hands and pointed it at them. The boy in shorts was huffing in anger, his foot still slowly healing. He drew his claws and dug them into Deucalion's neck. With all his strength Cody hoisted upwards as the huge werewolf pushed down. Muscles ripped, the carotid artery snapped, the bones made a sickening crunch as Deucalion's head was pulled off his body. Cody's hand opened and he dropped the bloody mess to the floor. The woman pulled out her phone, pressed a few buttons and handed it over to him smiling. He watched the camera as his eyes moulted from the dazzling gold to a deep, beautiful red.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Trepidation, a feeling of fear or agitation about something that may happen and the most recent word Scott added to his slowly expanding vocabulary. He was doing push-ups in his room, one, two, three, and thinking back on his conversation with his boss last night. He learned on rough average that wolf packs consisted of about seven or eight members, some go up into the twenties if there is an exceptionally powerful and respected leader. Although Deaton wasn't one hundred percent certain, he claimed Vere's pack numbered at least in the fifties, a testament to his "greatness". It took him a while but Scott realised this statistic wasn't as impressive as it should sound, seeing as this Vere bloke had over a millennia to assemble members. Deaton had shaken his head and reminded him Vere only collected the "best", those he himself deemed worthy of the gift of lycanthropy. Scott couldn't help but wonder if he would pass this test of judgement, sure the odds were against him but he was a true alpha and that had to count for something he figured, bitterly. Ten, eleven, twelve… Scott huffed in anger, this was so unfair. Why him? Why now? He cursed Peter in his head angrily. Twenty-one, twenty-two… the front door opened and slammed shut before rapid footsteps came up the stairs. Isaac had returned from his morning run, glistening in sweat, and looking forward to a hot shower.

"Ninety-nineeee….. Hundred!" Scott panted and feigned a dramatic flop to the floor, grateful Isaac wasn't good enough with his ears yet to determine when someone was fibbing. He looked up as the taller boy passed his room without so much a glance in his direction and huffed in annoyance.

"Isaac!" The curly haired teen took two steps backwards and popped his head into Scott's room.

"Scott, you're finally up!"

"Yeah, I got back late last night from work."

"Hah, it's those cats right? Hair everywhere, I've always hated them."

"They hate you right back!" Scott teased, chuckling. Isaac rolled his eyes at him.

"So Isaac, listen. Last night, some pretty weird stuff happened…"

"What… with the cats?"

"What? Dude, no! It was Deaton's sister. She was talking about a load of stuff."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"To be honest, I don't know. It's all pretty confusing."

"Well… what did she say?"

"Well… I don't have all the details yet but it's bad, like real bad..."

"Like Kanima bad or alpha pack bad?"

"Huh? Erm… alpha pack bad I guess. No wait, both. Put together and then some…"

"Oh… that's bad."

"Yeah, it's real bad." The two boys stared at each other uncomfortably.

"Soooo…"

"Yeah, listen. On Monday I think I'll go chat to Ms. Morell and see what else she can tell me… I'll take Stiles' turn. I'll get to skip History."

"Stiles goes to see the guidance counsellor?"

"That's not important. In the meantime, I need your help." Scott paused, looking into the taller boy's eyes. Isaac beamed happily knowing Scott needed his assistance.

"I need to talk to Ethan and Aiden." Isaac's face fell.

"Scott, come on…"

"They might know something and I don't want to have to wait till Monday to see them."

"Call them then, you don't necessarily have to be near them to talk to them..."

"Can't hear lies over the phone Isaac…" Scott tried, shrugging his shoulders. Isaac hummed in frustration. After much nagging Isaac agreed and after he showered the two boys got onto Scott's bike and rode towards the Penthouse, Scott filling Isaac in on the little he knows along the way.

**Elsewhere:**

Cody was restless, twisting and turning among the sheets. Killing an alpha and absorbing his power was phenomenal. Every part of his body felt so incredibly alive, he couldn't lay still. He kicked his feet about, pulled at the covers and punched his fist into his pillow. Nothing helped. He lay there panting, body dripped in sweat, and whimpered as the first rays of sunlight filled the dingy hotel room indicating he had been awake all night. Groaning he extended his right leg and sighed in relief, his ankle had mostly healed but the skin was still bruised. He had the most splitting headache when trying to remember exactly what happened the previous night. They succeeded, that was good. He vividly recalled pulling his target's head off, watching his eyes change colour and falling to the floor. He reasoned he must have passed out; after all he did lose a lot of blood when Deucalion wounded him. He got out of bed slowly and realised he was still in the blood soaked shorts Zaid threw at him.

Said man was asleep in the bed opposite, quietly snoring away. He was a giant, well over six foot, and his feet dangled off the edge. Cody envied Zaid's position in the pack, he was old and well-respected. The giant had been one of the first few that Vere invited to join him, centuries ago when Vere began his campaign in southern Africa. Cody remembered last night being frozen in a mixture of fear and awe as he watched the man transform from a hairy giant with claws into a monstrous werewolf, more beast than man. A hulking behemoth the size of a small van, looking like werewolves one would see in movies like Van Helsing or Underworld. Cody himself was the latest recruit, a dark haired, average sized, eighteen year old boy from Oregon. New, naïve and still had to prove himself to the pack, to show them that Vere was right about him, that he had potential. He shamefully admitted to himself his ability to transform into an actual wolf, apparently incredibly rare, was probably why he was spared from the purge. However when he looked over to his sleeping pack mate he couldn't help but feel very grateful, he was damn proud to be where he was now. Going from a lowly beta stealing scraps to belonging to the most feared pack in existence! These people, his pack, had let him make the kill. They had let him transcend into alpha-dom and in all honesty it felt fantastic. He felt he belonged, he was one of them. Sure the immense surge of power may have deprived him of a night's sleep but that wouldn't last forever, Cody couldn't wait till he had the chance to test his limits now.

Click. The front door opened and in walked a well-built British boy with short blond army hair. He was sporting a smile, probably due to the success they had last night, and carrying a few plastic bags.

"Jesus you stink. So, how are you feeling buddy? How does all that pure POWAAR feel? The blonde yelled. Cody held his ears tight and glared at him.

"Shut up! I've haven't slept a wink. My ears are ringing. Please tell me that's breakfast."

"This? Yeah. But you aren't getting anything till you've showered and changed."

Cody looked at his hands and extended his claws. He noticed they looked sharper, he could feel they were tougher too. "You know Lucas… this feeling… it's pretty great."

"Yeah, I remember when I became an alpha. Wait till the next full moon bud, it gets better."

Cody grinned at him. "What now? Are we going back to the others?"

"Not right away no. Go shower. I'll wake up this huge lug and we'll talk over breakfast."

**Meanwhile:**

Scott pulled up outside the Penthouse and tucked his helmet under his arm. Isaac jumped off after and brushed his fleece before readjusting his scarf. They strolled up to the main door side by side.

"You know their house number?" Isaac asked.

"Don't need to, Allison lives a floor beneath them remember?" Scott pushed the buzzer and they waited. However instead of Allison came a hoarse, gruff voice that was clearly annoyed at being awoken so early in the morning.

"What? Who is this?"

Both boys looked at each other wide eyed and mouths open. Isaac tried to nudge Scott forward but Scott dug his heels into the ground.

"Say something!" Isaac whispered.

"Like what?" Scott replied in a hushed tone.

"Ask for Allison!"

"No! You ask for her!"

"She's your ex-girlfriend!"

"BOYS! I can hear you. She's still asleep. Begone!" The buzzer went silent. Scott winced and looked at his friend sheepishly. They were going to have to find some other way in.

"Hmm, Danny has Ethan's number. I'll ask Stiles to ask him for it." Scott grimaced before flipping open his phone to dial his best friend.

**At a motel elsewhere:**

"There's a true alpha? Here?" Cody questioned in disbelief, talking halfway through a sausage roll. Zaid Obiajulu nodded solemnly. He finished his last spoonful of left-over biryani, a lovely South African dish he made the previous night and continued talking.

"Old Charles seems to think so and he's been right every time. Few miles south from here, some place called Beacon Hills. Heard of it?"

"Nope, should I have?"

"The Hales, they were a well-known pack a while ago. Apparently one of their dead alphas could turn into a wolf like you can." Zaid smiled. This sparked Cody's interest.

"So this true alpha is one of these Hales?"

"Doubt it, some hunter wiped out the majority of them. If they had a true alpha we would have sent a party to check him or her out ages ago. Lucas, Xiao Hua and myself are heading back to the others but you're gonna scout ahead and find out who this person is."

"Sounds simple enough."

"Nah, there's more to it than that newbie. We're not hunting this person down; we just want to know who he or she is and then take him or her to Vere himself to be judged. Charles might be able to feel where there are werewolves across great distances but he can't pinpoint them. That's where you come in, your first solo mission."

"Heh, any leads?"

"Deucalion was trying to build a strong enough pack to stop ours. We nipped that in the bud early ahaha but here's the thing, there are still remnants of said pack lingering around in Beacon Hills. I bet that's a good a start as any."

"Who are these people then?"

"That's what you're going to find out. Feel free to kill them if they threaten you. Vere's only interested in this true alpha."

"You guys leaving me the car?"

"HA! You ain't getting two feet near my ride! Go doggy mode or take a bus."

"Christ you suck. Gimme a break, I haven't slept all night…"

"Malcolm will be joining you in a day or two. Till then you're alone. You've only just become an alpha so get a feel for what you can do anything stupid."

"Don't need to tell me that, how long do I have?"

"We'll all be there once we've cleaned up the north. No rush. They aren't going anywhere. You'll be there three or four weeks tops."

"Where am I gonna be staying?" Cody asked. Zaid put his hand into his jacket and slide something across the table to him.

"Here's a credit card, now go do us proud kiddo."

**Inside the Penthouse:**

A weary-eyed, shirtless Ethan opened the door to his apartment. It wasn't so bad now that five occupants had been reduced to two. Despite Deucalion leaving him and his brother financially dry he was glad he finally had his own room for the first time. The twins had dumped a lot of stuff that belonged to their deceased pack members. It made the apartment look rather barren. Ethan looked from Scott to Isaac. "What's daddy issues doing here? What's so important?" Isaac looked like he was going to pounce on the smaller boy so Scott strategically stepped in front of him.

"May we come in? I need to talk to you two."

"Aiden's asleep so keep it down. This couldn't have waited till Monday?" Ethan led them to the couch. Scott noticed they didn't have a television.

"It's about Deucalion."

"I don't know where he is Scott, I've told you a hundred times."

"It's about his plans against Charles de Vere."

"Who?"

"Err… Charles de Vere? The alpha you guys planned on stopping?"

"Never heard of him." Scott listened, not a lie. Had Deucalion told any of his pack anything? Makes sense though Scott reasoned, if he did then his pack may not have stayed loyal.

"Deucalion never told you why he was building an alpha pack?"

"I thought that was the reason… to have a pack full of alphas."

"Scott, he doesn't know crap. Can I go?" Isaac said bluntly. Ethan growled.

"What about your brother? Does he know anything?"

"I highly doubt it, anything he knows I know. Look… just start from the beginning."

Isaac moaned and made himself comfortable on the couch. Ethan went to wake his brother and before long Scott, for the second time that day, was regurgitating all he found out from Deaton and his sister about the first true alpha.

**Beacon Hills Care Home:**

"But he's finally come here, to us!" wheezed an old man, trapped in a wheelchair. Filthy black ooze was running down his jumper. Wads of stained tissues littered the floor. Gerard Argent was in well-deserved pain. At that moment though, he had to put on a façade because right before him stood an old colleague. An old colleague he wanted on his side.

"I'm retired."

"Can you imagine it? Try! Imagine the glory, the fame! Our family names will go down in history. They would be eternal!"

"You're a foolish old man. We're not talking about an ordinary alpha here. This man has survived and won over centuries of war against people like us. You fled town once on a rumour he might be paying a visit."

The old man mumbled something inaudible angrily before turning back to his visitor.

"But did his adversaries have what we do now? The technology? The numbers? We are far better equipped to deal with this than our ancestors."

"There is no "we". You're a feeble ape trapped in a chair. There is nothing you can do."

"Is that so? You'll find over a course of a life time one makes many friends. I have contacts… I know people. People that are willing, able and resilient! Think about it, the ultimate hunt. We will eliminate the strongest beast there ever was or will be!"

"We're done talking. I'm leaving. Vere isn't interested in hunters, only werewolves. He will leave us alone if we leave him alone. He's cleaning the state. He's doing our job for us. Be grateful." The man turned to leave. Gerard spat at him.

"You're a fool Williams! A fool! When we succeed you'll be BEGGING FOR… " Slam! The door had shut. Gerard clenched his fists in anger and tried to calm himself down. He had been trying to restore the Argent name to its rightful glory all his life. The clan's shameful exile from France had been his great grandfather's fault a long time ago but the community of hunters don't forget history so easily. The moment one of his contacts upstate informed him of Vere's arrival in California, Gerard had been making calls from dawn till dusk. This was his chance, his chance to restore the family name. He'd been trying desperately to gather every hunter, experienced or not, he could. Overall thought, it had gone better than he had expected. Eight out of twenty four visitors had agreed to help.

From the corner of his dirty patient bedroom on the third floor of the Beacon Hills care home, Gerard Argent was slowly amassing an army. An army of hunters!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four:**

On Sunday night, at exactly 3:42 am, Lydia Martin bolted upright and screamed. These screams lasted for precisely 38 seconds before the redhead slumped back down, once again peacefully asleep and blissfully unaware. Four hours later she was up brushing her hair and picking out her outfit for the day, her mother had made her breakfast and prepared her lunch so she was out the door speedily at half eight. She smiled at herself in her car mirror, humming as she drove. Lydia stopped by the Penthouse to pick up Allison.

"Soooo, a little birdie told me Scott AND Isaac came a knocking on Saturday!" Lydia teased. Allison blushed and swatted at her playfully.

"It was nothing like that!"

"Oh?"

"Oh stop! They were actually there to speak to the twins."

"What, really?"

"Yes! And who is this "little birdie"?

"Oh, you know… tall, mysterious, blonde…"

"My DAD? He's your spy?"

The two girls burst into fits of giggles. Lydia, rolling down her windows, made a right turn at a junction, driving through the town centre. She loved the way she turned peoples' head, catching their attention. Lydia gave Allison a pout, putting on her most devilish grin. Allison laughed at her best friend's antics and tried to slide down her seat. Lydia observed the pedestrians as they went past, grading them from nought to ten in her head. Suddenly without warning Allison was violently thrown forwards; Lydia had stamped down hard on the brakes! Allison clung to her seatbelt trying to steady herself, gasping for air she looked towards her friend who was staring; jaws open at a guy, standing on the sidewalk, sipping a latte and smirking at them.

"Jackson?!" Lydia screeched.

"Miss me?" The handsome teen smirked, smug as ever.

**Beacon Hills High School:**

Scott didn't want to break the bad news to his friends before knowing as much as he could, Stiles had an appointment with said teacher during lunch time. Scott first asked politely, trying to subtly imply his request was important. Stiles said no. Scott gave Stiles his best puppy eyes. Stiles said no. Scott offered his friend half his lunch, including the chocolate bar. Stiles said no. Scott resorted to blackmail, threatening to tell Lydia just how old Stiles was before he stopped wetting the bed. Stiles reminded Scott he had far more dirt on him and access to police records. Scott was stumped, why it was so important for his best friend to see the guidance counsellor was beyond him. He sighed and was making his way back into class before he spotted a familiar redhead in a daydream.

"Lydia!"

"Scott…"

"Listen, I have a favour! Could you like… distract Stiles for all of lunch?"

Lydia said no.

When school was over Scott made his way down the empty corridor towards the Languages department, more specifically Morell's office. He was more nervous than he should have been, Morell was meant to be someone you could trust but she gave Scott the creeps. Heck, Isaac had refused to come along, or even listen in from afar. Reaching her office he knocked twice before entering. She was sat there, hands held together like Mr. Burns from the Simpsons. Scott shuddered. He tried to pretend it was because of a draft as he edged towards the seat opposite the woman and sat down apprehensively. She did a slow one-eighty turn, showing Scott the back of her chair.

"The Cavere"

"Huh?"

"They call themselves the Cavere. Ka-vair." Morell pronounced carefully.

"Oh, right…"

"They will arrive like a tidal wave, destroying everything in their path. Just one night and every werewolf deemed unfit in the vicinity will be dead by sunrise."

"That's not true…"

"Maybe, maybe not. Is my heart lying? Some places with strong packs might last a week, a pack in Egypt once lasted a month. The end result is the same, Vere succeeds."

Scott had enough. He slammed his fist onto the table.

"Yes I get it! He's some stupid super-wolf. But what can we do? What can I do?"

If Morell was surprised at Scott's little outburst she didn't show it.

"Nothing, it's hopeless. Pray Vere deems you worthy" She said with a snarl.

"There has to be! You came to your brother for help! You said "to prepare"!"

"I was there to talk to you. My brother is as clueless as I am."

"If it's hopeless you wouldn't have bothered waiting for me that day, just to tell me. I know he's only after werewolves, last I check you and your brother don't have fangs. Why does this concern you?"

"That's a conversation for another time."

"We're talking right now, so here's fine. Now's good. Tell me! Why is this important to Druids?"

"No."

Scott and Morell exchanged glares. Scott finally noticed how worked up he had gotten; his chest was visibly rising up and down. His hands were clenched into fists. A bead of sweat was forming. He stood up and started pacing around in front of Morell, trying to keep his cool.

"So what are you saying? I should leave town? Flee?"

"You can't run forever."

"THEN WHAT? I WANT AN ANSWER, IS THAT SO HARD? ENOUGH OF YOUR CRAP! I KNOW YOU KNOW SOMETHING! TELL ME!"

"Deucalion's dead…" Morell offered. Scott looked at her but she showed no emotion. He was slightly taken aback by this knowledge.

"What do you mean?"

"He was trying to build a pack that could fight back. You think they would give him the time? They hunted him down like an animal."

"He's…"

"They ripped him apart. I found the body. I couldn't find the head." Morell finished. Scott took a deep breath. Deucalion had been one incredibly strong werewolf but numbers can overwhelm. Scott sighed, deep down he was slightly hoping that man could have become an ally in all this.

"Maybe if Deucalion and the others didn't murder their own packs for power they would have the numbers TO fight back." Scott spat bitterly. He still couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for the man. Even if Deucalion's actions were slightly more justifiable than a few months ago it didn't excuse his methods.

"Losing his sight warped him as a man, you know this. Maybe you should visit the man responsible."

"No, screw that. That night you said the sooner I know the sooner we can prepare. What preparations?"

"One step at a time…"

"WE'RE NOT MOVING AT ALL!" Scott yelled at her. This time Morell flinched. Scott slammed both fists onto her desk and his eyes turned a bright red for a split second.

"Find the scout." She said quietly, visibly affronted.

"Huh?"

"The scout. It's how they operate, for efficiency. One or two of the Cavere will be sent ahead to their next destination. They'll find, mark and track every werewolf in the area. When they're done the rest of the pack comes and… cleans up".

"But what if they miss someone?"

"Then a few members will return to where the pack has just been and make sure no one gets overlooked."

"How would they know? What do you mean by mark?"

"They have their methods…"

Scott calmed down. They were finally getting somewhere, admittedly at a snail's pace.

"This scout…"

"It could be anyone. They're mostly all alphas, all capable of masking themselves."

"And if I find him?"

"Make sure he or SHE, doesn't report back."

**Beacon Hills Woods:**

Peter leapt up the flight of stairs of the remains of the Hale family house. He flew into a nearby room and slammed the door shut behind him. Thinking quickly he dragged a burnt cupboard and used it to secure the door. He leant against it, praying his pursuer wouldn't be able to break in. He looked around in panic and realised he was in his old bedroom, the window he used to sneak in and out still in a reasonable condition. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs, the crackles as claws grew out and the low, blood curling growl. Peter honed his senses and immediately felt something was wrong, terribly wrong. The moment the intruder had extended his claws a horrible burning smell wafted into Peter's nose. His first thought was this freak could set alight his claws but that was without a doubt, impossible. His footsteps stopped on the other side of the door, Peter ran for the window, calling himself a fool for thinking a cupboard could stop a werewolf getting inside.

A sharp projectile pierced through several layers of wood; just as Peter bolted open the window. The object embedded itself deep into his jugular vein. Peter screamed as his neck felt a searing burn. He could smell his flesh being cooked. Placing a hand over his neck he ripped the claw out and tumbled out of the window of and dropped down onto the wet earth below. His eyes flashed blue, muscles ready to run. He turned back and saw his attacker standing by the window, staring at him with a small smile on his lips. The boy raised his hand as a mocking gesture and Peter could see a new claw was growing back on the boy's index. It was glowing orange. The boy pointed it at him and fired. The claw flew towards Peter at blinding speed who instinctively reached out to catch it but instead found it digging into his palm. Peter let out a roar before turning tail and running into the woods.

Cody watched from the window in fascination as Peter hobbled quickly out of sight. There was no point chasing the wounded werewolf, he had been marked, twice in fact. Cody looked at his hand, his finger covered in blood, healing rapidly. Vere explained to him when he first joined that certain genes are changed as a result of lycanthropy. One neat little trick due to these changes is an ability to collect an enormous amount of body heat into one area. In this case the blood vessels that travels into an extended claw. When the heat energy gets too much the claw will fire off, almost like a rocket. When it pierces another living being, be it werewolf or human, the virus-like, volatile, heated blood from the attacker will enter the victim, marking them permanently. Burns leave scars. This allowed the Cavere to mercilessly track down all targets in a vast area. Peter Hale was the first person Cody marked. He finally understood what Vere was trying to teach him. His head tingled as he focused, he could sense exactly where the wounded werewolf was from his own location, the distance, the direction. There was some sort of predatory link, it made one feel powerful, feel great. Cody grinned, reaching into his pocket he took out his phone to text his best friend.

5:12 pm From: Cody Black

To: Malcolm Wilkerson

Marked 1 already. Some omega. No sign of TA. When u getting here?

5:18pm From: Malcolm Wilkerson

Re: Cody Black

5 mins from the hotel. Get dinner on ur way back pls.

Malcolm was a genius, his IQ easily surpassing Lydia's own. He was a scrawny, browned hair boy, in his late teens in appearance but not in age. His head looked too big for his body. When Vere continued his crusade into Europe, Malcolm's brains hid him and his pack from the Cavere for months, even escaping several times before someone finally slipped up and they were all caught. Vere, very impressed, made him an offer, join him and use his unmatched intellect to aid his cause or be executed along with the others. It was an easy decision. Originally struggling to survive in the poorest parts of Bulgaria, he embraced his new life amongst the Cavere. It was Malcolm who designed methods for calculating the number of werewolves in a given area, saving the Cavere months of time, he made the whole operation more efficient.

**Coffee shop in town:**

Jackson was sitting comfortably on beautifully decorated, cushioned seats in a lovely, homely coffee shop in the nicest part of town, sipping the most heavenly coffee. He was in the foulest mood imaginable. Opposite him sat his best friend and ex-girlfriend, both latching arms with two baby-faced people who looked exactly the same. He didn't know what to make of this, he asked if this was some elaborate prank but the shaking of heads let him down. He gave Lydia his most disapproving glare but the ice princess didn't even falter. The twins smirked at each other in unison and Danny gave his best friend a small shrug.

"I don't believe this… I was gone ONE semester."

"I thought you were gone for good." Lydia replied, giving a small uncaring shrug.

"What else did I miss?"

"Oh boy… you have no idea what you're in for"

Jackson looked between her and Aiden.

"He's a rebound. He's a rebound right?"

Before Aiden could reply Lydia cupped his chin and pulled him into a long kiss. If looks could kill, Jackson would be unstoppable.

**Beacon Hills Town:**

Peter had made it out of the woods. His neck and left hand were still burning hot. The pain was immeasurable! He had been walking back towards the old hale house to retrieve a laptop, which had information stored he desperately needed, spells, runes and magic. Peter cursed his luck. He was a lot more knowledgeable on werewolf history than he let on. He knew with Scott's rise to true alpha-dom it would only be a matter of time before the Cavere arrived. He thought he had more time. Peter could see the town now. He ran towards the closest phone box and dialled his nephew. He waited and waited before Derek finally picked up.

"Derek! Tell me you found something…"

"What? No, not yet? Why are you calling at this hour? Cora is asleep."

"They're here. You're running out of time." Peter rasped. Derek's heart skipped a beat. Scott, Isaac… they were in danger and he was thousands of miles away in South America.

"We don't know what we're evening looking for exactly!"

"If you don't come back with something soon, ANYTHING, we can use. We're all dead."

"Then move everyone somewhere else, buy me time."

"You think they trust me? Derek… I've been marked." Dead silence. Peter knew his nephew wasn't particularly fond of him, he didn't know how Derek would react.

"I'll keep looking". Click. The call went off. Peter slammed the phone back onto its holder in frustration. He was still in pain, something was stopping him healing. He had no choice; he headed towards Deaton's clinic on the other side of town.

Meanwhile Scott had persuaded his mother to give him the house for the evening, spending his own allowance to buy her a panto ticket. He spent the afternoon texting, calling, messaging people. Now he sat on his sofa with Isaac, watching the clock tick by, waiting for his friends to arrive. The front door clicked open and Stiles entered, holding the spare key Scott gave him years ago. Scott ran up and gave him a hug.

"Thanks for coming."

"Hey buddy, everything alright?"

"Yeah, well no. I'll explain when everyone gets here."

Allison arrived next, giving everyone a small smile before sitting on the sofa across from them. Soon they heard a car pull up and Lydia strolled in, a familiar face behind her.

"Oh… he is back" Stiles mumbled. Jackson flipped him off. The twins were the last to arrive, looking a bit frightened as they entered the house. Isaac turned his head the other way when they came into the living room.

"What are they doing here?" Jackson asked. He looked to Lydia. "You said this was a welcome back party."

"Is he for real?" Aiden asked his brother as Lydia rolled her eyes and facepalmed.

"Guys!" Scott said, drawing everyone's attention. "I've got bad news."

**Meanwhile:**

Peter barely made it halfway towards the clinic before he was ambushed. They knew exactly where he was. Now he was on the floor, Malcolm's foot hard on his neck, keeping him trapped. They were in the parking lot behind a small block of flats. It was almost midnight.

"How could you not think of this earlier?" Malcolm asked his partner.

Cody shrugged and walked over, kneeling besides Peter. Extending his claws he shoved them hard into the older man's side. Peter's scream was muffled by the force on his trachea. Cody pushed in deeper and twisted. Peter could feel his ribs crack, small shards of bone digging into his lungs. The agony was indescribable. Blood trickled onto the pavement.

"How's he gonna speak? Move your foot." Malcolm nodded and complied, shifting his foot from neck to sternum. "I believe you know a man called Deucalion." Cody said. Peter didn't reply, he was heaving his chest up and down, desperate for some air, for some relief.

"Please, please…" he begged. Cody giggled.

"I ripped his head off." Peter turned his head slightly, the shock apparent in his eyes. Cody continued talking:

"I'm told some of his pack are still around… what do you know?"

"hurghgh ple… please."

"Not an answer." Cody flexed his claws inside Peter, causing new pain waves to spread over Peter.

"ARWAARGGHHH! Huhh… uhh"

"Come on… spilllll" Cody teased in a sinister sing song voice.

"Twwnnn… huhhh… twins!"

"Where are they?"

"Sckchool…"

"Boys? Girls? Identical? Alphas?"

"Nnnnnnnnn… ple…"

"Not an answerrrrr!"

"ff… f yuu… AWAAAAAARRRRGHHH!" Cody had pushed in even further. More twisting, more blood gushing out. Peter's left lung had collapsed, the pressure in his chest causing unmatched pain. If Peter wasn't allowed to heal soon he would die. He was taking deep, laboured breaths, his vision going cloudy. He was close to fainting. Malcolm looked bored.

"We have enough. Can't be that many pairs of twins at the school. Let's go. End him."

Cody's smile suddenly widened.

"Got an idea big boy! How would you like to be marked from the inside?"

Peter's eyes widened in fear, he could feel a sudden heat rising in his chest. A claw shifted in his flesh, pointing directly in the direction of his heart.

"no NO… wait…" Peter begged desperately.

"Last words?"

"I… know… what you're after." Peter barely gurgled out.

"I also know what I'm after." Cody replied, looking unimpressed. More heat gathering on his claw.

"I… can help. I know who he is…"

"Cody!" Malcolm interjected. "Wait…"

"He? Guessed as much. What's his name?" Cody asked.

"Leebbmme goo… pllee" Peter's eyes closed but his chest kept on heaving. He was hanging on by a thread.

"Who and where, and I'll let you go!"

"Nurgghhh…"

"He can tell you're lying, dumbass." Malcolm chastised, folding his arms. He took his foot off Peter's chest. "I take it you'll only show us."

Peter nodded as best he could.

"Malcolm, he isn't going to survive this. No way in hell. Not as a beta."

"You just had to overdo it…"

"Hey" Cody said, giving Peter a light slap. "His name, give me his name. I'll end the pain. Best deal you're gonna get buddy."

"Sccch… ohtt… mkkcall…"

Peter no longer had the strength to speak. Cody fired his mark and pulled out, taking bits of lung and rib as he went. Peter heard the retreating footsteps of his two killers fade into the distance. It had been ten seconds since the scorching claw was fired into his heart. He could feel the surging pain as heated blood circulated around his dying body. Fifteen seconds, he could feel it in his navel, his stomach, his groin. Twenty seconds now, the burn had reached his arms, thighs, knees. Thirty seconds, his hands, legs, neck. 38 seconds, the brain.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

Scott sat on his bed and watched as Stiles paced back and forth. Stiles had taken the bad news pretty well although it was probably because he wasn't a werewolf and therefore not in any danger, yet. The news of Peter's corpse however had thrown everyone in disarray. Isaac was on the chair, arms folded and apparently in deep thought.

"They're… scouts. They aren't meant to kill…" Scott whispered to himself. "I thought we had time…"

"Peter isn't going to come back again is he?" Isaac mumbled. Scott was fidgeting with his fingers, picking at his skin with his nails. Something he would do when feeling anxious, like before an exam. Stiles noticed and sighed, trying to get his friend to calm down.

"So… what happens when this creep thinks someone deserves to be a werewolf?" Stiles questioned, hoping it would make Scott talk.

"Apparently if they're super-duper he asks them to join his super-duper pack, or they just get left alone with a warning not to turn others. Everyone else…"

"Death, yeah I get it. So Derek's family? They were approved?"

"Apparently Derek's mother was, back when she lived in Europe. It's rare though, being approved I mean. There aren't any werewolves at all in some states, Deaton said so."

Stiles frowned and made a face. "To clarify, there's some army of werewolf maniacs about to descend on our town sometime soon. They can somehow know how many werewolves there are but not who or where they are so they send scouts ahead to pinpoint each one. You got this all from one source right? And that's Deaton?"

"What?" Scott asked. "You don't trust him?"

"It's not that I don't trust him, I'm just saying he has a lot of secrets." Stiles dropped down on the bed next to Scott. "You think this is why Derek left?"

"I don't know."

Scott buried his head into his arms. Stiles hated seeing his best friend in so much trouble, he hated feeling so helpless. He could come up with ideas, plans and traps but when it came down to taking action Scott would have most of the work to do.

"You know, at least we're not walking around like headless chickens…" Stiles tried. Scott looked at him confused.

"We need to find this scout right? And he or she is trying to find every werewolf in Beacon Hills? That means at some point Scott… you're going to meet this person. We don't need to actively search for them, we just need a plan for when they show up."

"Stiles is right! A trap, we'll have the advantage." Isaac chirped.

"Stiles… Isaac. Who knows how many werewolves there are? I mean… there's me, you, Jackson and the twins. That's five already! The Cavere could find anyone of us…"

"That just means we have less time to prepare…" Isaac offered.

"No, the Cavere… they're killing… Morell was wrong. We can't keep tabs on everyone; we'll all be split up if they find us. At the same time we can't all stay together forever..."

"Whoa, Scott slow down. Listen, this is important, like fundamental to our plan… do you know how they can, one hundred percent, no mistake, identify everyone who is a wolf?"

"What? No."

Stiles threw his hand up. "Information is like… vital. We don't have all the stuff we need to knw. We'll… just have to make do with what we got."

Isaac raised his eyebrows at him.

"I'm talking mountain ash, mistletoe, wolfs bane, whatever Allison's dad has in his arsenal."

Scott nodded at him, slowly coming to terms on what he was going to have to do.

"It's like a game of cat and mouse, except both teams are the cat and the mouse at the same time. But whoever finds the other first… is the cat."

Stiles gave his friend a quizzical look, wondering if he would still be sat there alive if it wasn't for him. In Scott's defence he got the main idea, except it was a lot more subtle than cat and mouse.

"Good, good." Stiles said. "We need to tell the others. Get everyone on board. Scott… you need to see what Chris Argent can give us."

"You mean like weapons?"

"Anything…"

**Beacon Hills High School, a few days later:**

"Scott Michaels? First name had to have been Scott." Cody guessed. "Michaels?" Peter's voice had become a mix of incoherent gurgles right before he died, neither member of the Cavere managed to catch the name of the true alpha they were after.

"He could be called anything. If you hadn't taken it too far we would have got the name instead of incoherent spluttering."

"It sounded like Michaels and hey, I stabbed him in the chest. You were the one who stood on his neck. It's your fault no one could make out what he said."

Malcolm scowled at him. "Just keep an eye out for twins." He whispered.

"We don't know anything about them. They might not even look alike."

"If they're fraternal it wouldn't have been worth mentioning they were twins."

The pair strolled down the main corridor. They passed a chubby teacher who gave them a weird look, they were clearly not freshman and he had never seen them before when he clearly should have, being the head of year.

"Do you two boys go here? I haven't seen you around before…" he asked with one hand on his glasses.

"Ah no sir, we're from Leighton upstate. Here for the lacrosse game? You know the way to the pitch?"

The lady brought the lie and pointed them in the right direction. Cody turned to his friend.

"Nice lie, sounded rehearsed. You actually called him sir…"

"Screw you. I did research. Stupid whale should have known the lacrosse match is in the afternoon. Why would we be here so early? But listen; there are four people in this school with the surname Michaels."

"And?"

"Three are girls and the fourth is the teacher we just passed."

"Oh…" Cody hummed to himself. "What else could it have been?"

"Don't know; don't want to waste time guessing. Let's find these twins…"

On the first floor of the Languages department, the second classroom on the right, Ethan sat behind his boyfriend in English class, happily scribbling a note. Dotting the bottom of the torn piece of paper with little Xs. His brother was on the other side of the room, rolling his eyes and trying to find a comfortable sitting position. Scott watched as the smaller twin passed his note into Danny's waiting hand and smiled. After all the jerks Danny had suffered it was wonderful he finally got a boyfriend who so clearly cared for him. Going to school, living a semi-normal life had allowed Ethan to slowly wean off his brother and become his own person. They weren't together all the time, which would have been welcome months ago but in this case actually made things difficult. Scott was trying to keep tabs on them, there was no doubt if the Cavere hunted down Deucalion then they knew he had a pack.

Stiles was lounging at the back of the classroom. He had read ahead, the English lesson might as well have been a free period for him. The teacher gave them worksheets and left them to it, going downstairs for some much needed coffee. In Stiles' hand was a small metal gadget Scott had somehow managed to "borrow" from Allison's dad, Stiles sat there turning it over and over in his hand. If he pressed the button a high pitched sound would echo out, forcing all werewolves in the area hold their ears in pain. The idea being the instrument could identify anyone who was a werewolf. Unfortunately Stiles had been Mr. Trigger happy, pressing the device every time a stranger got remotely close. Stiles was pretty sure he had a bruise on his arm from where Jackson assaulted him the fifth time in ten minutes he used the buzzer. Now he was "persuaded" to only use it once an hour. Lydia on the other hand, loved her new power over her boyfriend and her ex. No one had the gall to tell her to stop spamming the gadget. Scott wished his friends would take this more seriously. He watched as Aiden flicked his pen lid at Jackson's head from across the room, they had been messing and annoying each other all day, whispering taunts and threats so only werewolf ears could hear. Jackson in response made to get out of his chair. Scott instinctively moved his hands to his ears, just in time as Lydia pressed down onto the device and the nasty noise rung out for the first time that day.

Cody growled, his hands plastered over his ears. He and Malcolm were in an office room, his friend clicking and scrolling away on a school computer while he sat on the desk, kicking his feet back and forth like a child.

"Did you hear that?" He said quietly.

"Yeah… Give me two secs Cody."

Malcolm scrolled down a list of students, filtering them out. Hacking into the system had been simple. The previous occupant of the office, a French teacher, lay unconscious beneath the desk, a nasty bump on his head.

"I've narrowed the search, listed everyone with the same surname."

"Find them?"

"Got them, has to be these two. They're upstairs in English. Fifteen minutes and they'll be moving across the school to the science labs."

Cody bounced off the table he was sitting on, a big grin on his face. "Let's go."

**Scott & Co:**

Scott stood by the doorway waiting for Stiles to finish packing his bag. He smiled, watching his friend fumbling around with pens and paper, trying to stuff everything on his desk into his bag. Across the room Allison neatly stacked her books, elegantly raised herself out of her seat and gave Scott a small smile. Together the three of them walked towards their next lesson, trailing behind Lydia and Aiden.

"I don't like it…" Allison started.

"You mean… those two?" Stiles inquired.

"I… don't trust him."

"But you do trust Lydia; she knows what she's doing." Scott offered.

"Hmmm" Allison thought to herself, something was bothering her.

They strolled past a stream of students heading in all different directions. They stopped by the top of the stairs, waiting for Isaac to catch up. Jackson stormed past them in a huff, Danny and Ethan walked by, some girls in their class giggled as they went past, some students going in the opposite direction. Isaac came bumbling towards then.

"Sorry, thanks for waiting."

"Guys, guys! Trouble at lizard o'clock!" Stiles noticed amused.

"Huh?"

"Jackson is heading right for the lovebirds."

They all watched amused as Jackson harshly shoved Aiden from behind, making him stumble a few feet forwards.

"JACKSON!" Lydia screeched as her ex-boyfriend raised a fist. Aiden caught the oncoming blow and brought his knee right into Jackson's groin. "AIDEN!" A small crowd was gathering, cheering and chanting. Allison glared and pressed down hard on the buzzer in her hand. Both boys groaned and backed off. Scott, hands on his ears, gave Allison a proud look but froze. Allison looked like she had seen a ghost; her lips were pursed, her stare solid. Suddenly she snapped back in action, grabbing Scott's arm and pulling him out of sight.

"Isaac, come." She hissed. There was something about her tone, Stiles and Isaac followed without question.

"Allison, ALLISON, whoa! What are you doing?" Scott gasped.

"Scott! Didn't you see? When I pressed the buzzer, two other people, in the corner… they held their ears too."

"What?!" Isaac gawked, clearly on edge.

"They're here… in the school." Allison murmured, face full of fear.

**Just down the corridor:**

The moment the high-pitched sound rung out Malcolm instinctively held his ears and turned away, hissing at Cody to do the same. Grabbing Cody, Malcolm led him away from the scene.

"That was no coincidence" Malcolm snarled, visibly angry. "That was timed, it stopped the fight."

"It came from above us; did you see who did it?"

"No, I turned my face."

They were walking fast towards the exit, towards the car park.

"You did the runes yesterday, there were only six werewolves in this shit little town, five now that we offed one last night. Why are we fleeing?" Cody questioned.

"You know I'm not that great in a fight, those twins are alphas. That Jackson kid might be too. Whoever made that noise is on to us."

"They aren't all necessarily working together… those two were about to fight over something."

"You saw right, the taller one was the twin. His brother was close by, they look the same."

"Yeah, he was holding some bloke's hand. So plan?" Cody said, nodding.

"Stick to the original, mark them then wait for back-up."

"That leaves two werewolves unaccounted for… ones gotta be the true alpha."

"They won't be far, that Jackson idiot was no omega. He has a pack of some kind. We'll tail the twins after school ends… we'll come back then. I don't want the enemy knowing who we are whilst we're still in the dark."

**Lunchtime:**

"Stay with me." Allison ordered, walking through the school, Scott and Stiles beside her. "Isaac is making sure Lydia is safe. I take it you've spoken to the twins."

"Yeah, they know, Jackson does too." Scott confirmed.

"How could you not see their faces…" Stiles poked. Allison turned and gave him a sharp stare, Stiles raised his hand in defeat. "It would just help Allison, that's all."

"One was wearing the hoodie, the other a blue T-shirt and black hair."

"Not good enough. That describes half the boys here" Stiles prodded. "What else?"

"Erm" Allison said. "Not tall, not short, around Scott's height maybe? I saw them; they definitely reacted to the resonance."

The trio passed some unfamiliar boys heading towards the locker room. After they rounded a corner Allison pressed her device and looked round the bend. Scott grimaced.

"No… not any of them." Allison mumbled.

"They're not stupid. They must have known by now these noises aren't a coincidence. They're probably already on to us and each beep is letting them know where we are!" Stiles concluded, and made to clumsily grab Allison's buzzer away from her. She sidestepped him easily.

"You have any other ideas?" She asked.

"Yeah, our original plan. Let them come to us."

**After school:**

Ethan tucked away his belongings and strapped on his motorcycle helmet. His brother tapped his fingers on the handles of his own bike impatiently. Once ready the two brothers started their vehicles and rode off, side by side.

Malcolm put down his binoculars and started his engine. Cody slouched into the passenger's seat, putting his feet onto the dashboard. Malcolm motioned for him to sit properly before putting on his seatbelt. The car set off in slow pursuit.

The twins stopped at some traffic lights. Aiden slowly turned his head to take a look around. Silver Mercedes, a red Volkswagen, and a black Bentley. The lights turned green and the brothers started their bikes, turning left out of town this time instead of their usual right to get home. The Mercedes turned right, the Volkswagen followed, but the Bentley turned left.

Scott and Stiles were hiding in the jeep, parked almost on the pavement. Ethan's voice came onto the speaker.

"Approaching your location now, get ready."

The two boys watched as Ethan and Aiden cruised past, soon after a black car followed. Stiles peered over the bottom of his vehicle window and pressed the buzzer. Scott grimaced.

"Negative, car passengers did not react." Stiles spoke into the walky-talky. "Go back to the junction you two."

"You think this will work Stiles?"

"Scott I'm telling you, no-one drives down this road. It doesn't lead anywhere. They didn't have the funding to finish building it all the way to Leighton."

Malcolm looked out of his mirrors. Cody was beside him fuming. "How could you lose them? They were directly ahead of us." Malcolm growled at him. "Shut up, they must have made a turn I didn't catch." Cody grabbed his friend's arm. "No, wait. Up ahead, I see them."

Ethan and Aiden looked at each other in unspoken understanding as a white Camaro stopped behind the yellow Mini behind them. When the lights turned green the twins turned left. Ethan raised his shoulder, setting his microphone in place.

"Another one guys… fast approaching." Suddenly Allison's voice intercepted the call. She was stationed in the café opposite the junction where the twins turned, looking at the car drivers as they went by.

"It's them, it has to be them. Same clothes. Don't buzz, let them pass."

"Ethan, you hear that? You know the plan…" Scott said, snatching the device from Stiles.

"Yeah I heard. 20 seconds."

The twins kept riding down the road, slowly increasing speed. A white car was trailing them in the distance. Twenty seconds had passed. Stiles started his engine and drove off. Allison left the café, Isaac and Lydia behind her. Lydia opened her car and the three got in.

"Remember what you promised." Allison said, looking at the red head.

"Stay in the car. I know."

Jackson was already a few hundred metres down the narrow road. At some point the unfinished road bifurcates into two smaller roads, both splits also ending up in a field in the middle of nowhere.

"Stilinski's lame plan actually worked?" He muttered across the walky-talky.

"Shut up and do your part." Stiles replied.

Jackson revved his engine and started his ride; he parked his Porsche sideways. Exit one, blocked.

The twins quickly arrived shortly after. They dismounted, put on their brakes and parked their motorbikes head to head. Exit two, blocked.

The white Camaro was soon in sight. Malcolm sat forwards in confusion. "What… what are they doing?" Cody looked up from his phone. Three werewolves stood side by side, apparently having put aside their differences. Malcolm hissed and stamped down on the brakes, stopping the car. Cody looked at him questionably. "It's a fucking trap." Malcolm snarled. "We've been played." Upon hearing another set of tyres, Malcolm ripped off his seatbelt angrily and stared in disbelief behind them.

Stiles parked his jeep right in the middle of the road, Scott jumping out of the side door as he did so, eyes glowing a beautiful red. Behind them Lydia pulled her car into a skid. Allison, armed and ready, gracefully exited the vehicle, Isaac claws already drawn followed suit.

Exit three, blocked.

**Author's note:**

I would like to say a massive thank you to everyone's who has been reading my story. I enjoy creative writing as a hobby and would love to improve. I understand some previous chapters may have been confusing and I apologise if you have found it so. To improve I do need feedback of any kind so If you have the time and can be bothered please feel free to provide as harsh criticism as you like in a review. I won't take anything personally!

Oh and a lot of other stories have a disclaimer, I reckon it can't hurt to have one. I own nothing. All the characters belong to Teen wolf and Jeff Davis.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six:**

"You are the worst "genius" ever. How the fuck did you fall for this?" Cody whispered to Malcolm. Malcolm turned around and gave him an incredulous look.

"Me? You fell for it too!"

Cody rolled his eyes and patted Malcolm's head patronisingly. Despite being an alpha, Malcolm was more hinder than help in a fight. All brains, very little brawn. He was only an alpha on account of his pack holding someone down for him to kill.

"There there buddy, you can hide in the car if you like." Cody joked.

"Shut up, let's see what they want."

Scott stood in a fighting position and watched as two boys exited the white Camaro. He looked at Stiles and beckoned him forward with his hand, his best friend edged slowly behind him. Stiles looked at the two of them, observing them. The shorter one hadn't yet transformed, skinny, sandy-brown hair, sort of short, Stiles reckoned his head was a few times too big for his body. The other one worried Stiles more, he was classically handsome, dark hair, red glowing eyes, muscular and hunched over ready to fight.

"Stop! Don't move." Stiles shouted at them. "We have you… err… outnumbered. Surrender, hands up, get… on your knees and you will be unhurt… well mostly unhurt."

"Freckles shut it!" Cody snarled menacingly. Stiles gaped at him lost for words, mouth hanging open. "You can't all be werewolves; Malcolm here did his voodoo crap."

"Don't tell them my name! What are you doing?" Malcolm whined.

"So what? There are still eight of us, two of you." Stiles replied. Cody made a deliberate gesture of ignoring him and looked around.

"So… those clones over there make two, both curls and butt-chin have yellow eyes and make four. The others must be frigging human." Cody spun around too look directly at Scott. "And that makes you… the true alpha."

"I wouldn't be so cocky right now…" Scott warned him. The twins and Jackson approached closer.

"We're outnumbered sure but outmatched? Not so sure." Cody grinned.

"We know why you're here… we know who you guys are and what you do. You can't win this, surrender and we won't hurt you." Scott reasoned. Allison walked up besides Scott, an arrow drawn and aimed at Cody who looked at it warily.

"Scott, let's just knock them out." Isaac growled.

Lydia watched things unfold from the seat of her car. Something felt wrong, felt off. She looked at the two boys surrounded. They killed Peter. After everything Peter put her through she couldn't say she was sad he was gone but for him to die so violently… again. This operation wasn't thought out Lydia decided, once they captured them then what? Kill them? Keep them locked up? Morell revealed barely anything to Scott. The group were starting to circle the two boys. It didn't look like they were going to co-operate. Stiles shook his head at them and took off his rucksack to pull out a long cord of rope he had spent an afternoon lacing with anti-werewolf plants. Stiles was starting to gain his confidence. He knew he had everyone here protecting him and each other. Isaac came up and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Don't be stupid, sit down, arms up!" Stiles demanded, glaring. He took a step forward. Malcolm faltered slightly but Cody looked positively furious.

"You want a fight freckles? You've got one."

Everything descended into chaos. The moment Cody moved forwards Allison fired her bow. Cody snatched the arrow mid-air and threw it, javelin-style, at Stiles who instinctively raised his rucksack in front of his face just in time as the sharp projectile pierced through several layers of fabric, burying itself deep into Stiles' chemistry text book. Lydia shrieked and left the safety of the vehicle, running towards Stiles to pull him away as Scott roared in anger and threw himself forwards, Isaac not far behind.

Malcolm quickly leapt behind the Camaro, desperately trying to get into the trunk. The twins were undressing fast, throwing their jackets to the side and ripping their shirts into pieces. Jackson was sprinting directly at the smaller Cavere. Jackson was closing in, thirty feet, twenty feet, ten. The roof of the trunk came off completely as Malcolm tore it from its hinges in panic and flung it at the oncoming beta. Jackson side stepped it and threw a right hook, bruising Malcolm on the cheek, before tackling him to the floor.

Scott ducked as Cody took the first swing. Isaac barrelled straight into Cody and the two fell over in a ball of fist and fang. Scott circled them, looking for an opening to help. Allison sprinted towards them, her bow on the ground but her taser sparking electric. Malcolm had managed to shove Jackson off him and was rapidly fumbling in the trunk. Jackson got back up in a fury and lunged just as Malcolm swivelled to point an ancient looking pistol right in his face. As Malcolm pulled the trigger he felt himself soaring skywards. The twins combined had grabbed and thrown him directly upwards. The bullet Malcolm fired shooting off into thin air. Malcolm screamed as he fell; flailing his arms before landing with a crunch on the pavement, blood oozing out of his back. His hoodie torn and his gun clattering out of reach.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?" Malcolm screeched in fear, looking at the giant morphed behemoth before him. Ethan and Aiden growled and charged towards him as one. Malcolm tried getting up but the pain from the fall was too great. He pointed his left hand at the duo and began collecting heated blood into his fingertips. His claws grew hot and he fired all five straight at the oncoming giant.

Cody was on the ground; Isaac had won the brief tussle and was bending over him punching away. Collecting his legs together Cody savagely kicked upwards, both feet connecting into Isaac's abdomen. Isaac flew backwards, gasping as the wind was knocked out of him. Bouncing up Cody reached out to grab a handful of Isaac's hair and pulled down hard the same time he brought his knee up. Isaac roared in pain as he felt his nose break, warm blood pouring out. Scott and Allison rushed in together, one from the side the other from behind, forcing Cody to release Isaac. He dive sideways to avoid them.

"Lydia! Get back in the car!" Allison yelled at her friend who was trying to pull a reluctant Stiles away from the fighting. Scott leapt after Cody who had retreated onto the back of the Camaro. Scott swiped at his foot, hoping to pull him off the car but had to quickly duck to avoid a vicious kick. Scott ran around and tried getting onto the vehicle for equal ground but Cody blocked every attempt. Allison turned and ran for her bow, taking out a flash arrow in preparation. Thinking fast, at blinding speed, Cody bent down on one knee and performed a savage sweep kick. Scott grunted as the enemy's foot connected with his jaw, knocking him to the ground.

"What's the matter? That the best you can do?" Cody mocked before jumping down to throw a punch while Scott was still wounded. Allison fired. The arrow exploded as it hit the car, sparks leaping everywhere. Cody ducked, hands over his head and unable to see. Scott scrambled away from the light and turned to see a fist flying at him. However, Isaac was back up and threw out both hands to stop Cody's punch; Isaac snarled and dug his claws in deep. Blood poured out as Cody yelped and tried to pull away but Isaac kept his hold firm. Scott took the opportunity and gave Cody a brutal uppercut, connecting with his chin and knocking a fang out. Scott followed with a punch to Cody's stomach, doubling him over. Isaac suddenly howled in pain and released the enemy, his hands covered in this own blood. A scorching claw was embedded in the flesh of his thumb, Cody had marked him. Scott turned his head towards Isaac instinctively giving Cody the chance to use his good hand and swipe at Scott's chest, ripping fabric and drawing blood.

"Malcolm! Get back here!" Cody yelled as he shoved Scott to the floor.

In his panic Malcolm had missed, his marks flying all over the place. His left hand now clawless he tried scrambling backwards but found himself hoisted into the air. Aiden and Ethan roared into his face, saliva splattering over him as he blanched in fear. He tried clawing with his other hand but to no avail. The giant threw him skywards, grabbed his ankle and swung down hard. Malcolm's head connected with the pavement with a sickening crunch. He tried gasping for air and desperately pulled his legs to get free only to find himself launched mid-air once more.

"CODYYY!" He screamed just before the twins slammed him down again; face first, a vicious crack sounding out as several of his ribs broke. Jackson had recovered and was looking between the two Cavere pack members, the twins seem to be in complete control. Jackson ran for the gun Malcolm dropped, an old dusty looking flintlock pistol with beautiful gold trimming and the initials CV inscribed into the handle. Jackson smirked and pocketed the item.

"Cody huh? That your name?" Allison asked. The two were circling each other, Allison swinging a dagger in one hand, the taser buzzing in the other. She sported a bruised shoulder and a black eye while Cody had a few cuts to his arms and cheek.

"What's it to you hag?" Cody spat, trying to look where Malcolm was.

"You see that? Your mate is unconscious. It's just you, versus all of us." Allison said, face showing no emotion. Jackson, Isaac and Scott now had him completely surrounded. Stiles was creeping forwards with rope in his hands. The twins dropped a badly wounded, unconscious Malcolm to the ground and walked towards the group.

"You'll pay for this! You have NO idea who we are, what we can do." Cody snarled in an attack position, looking from Allison to Stiles. They shrugged uncaringly and advanced closer. A squelching sound occurred as the twins separated as they approached, both of them staring Cody down.

"That's so gross… you're literally inside each other. It's incest." Cody hissed nastily. The twins were about to charge him but Stiles stepped in front of them, arms out.

"You think this is a time for your crap tough guy?" Stiles retorted. "You've lost. Get down and maybe you won't get pummelled some more."

"Stiles!" Isaac butted in, face still contorted in pain. "Stiles look at my hand. LOOK what he did to me. I took out the claw, it still burns, and it's not healing!"

"What did you do to him?" Scott asked Cody, his voice dangerously quiet.

"Figure it out you cun-" Thwack!

"ARGHHHHHH!" Cody shrieked. One of Allison's daggers was lodged deep into his foot, only a couple centimetres from his groin. Blood seeped out, colouring his trainer red. "FUCKING SKANK, I'LL RIP YOUR HEAD OFF." Cody lunged forwards.

"Grab him!" Stiles yelled and moved in. Jackson dove forwards and wrapped both arms around Cody and lifted him off the ground. Cody thrashed about kicking and snarling. Scott moved in to try to hold the boys arms by his side. Jackson suddenly yelped. Something was wrong. Hair had started protruding everywhere on Cody's body. His face sharply elongated and grew as everyone watched in shock horror. His clothes ripped as he grew in considerable size. Jackson dropped him in panic, stumbling backwards and falling on his behind. Before them all, standing in a pile of ripped clothes, stood a large monster of a wolf. Scott had barely come to terms with what just happened before a set of jaws clamped down on his leg. Scott gasped in pain but before he could react a sharp tug pulled him to the floor. The giant wolf bound over him, knocking Ethan over as it went. Allison's dagger became dislodged, clattering onto the floor.

"Catch him! Allison shoot!" Stiles shouted in panic. Scott swivelled onto his side to see a humongous wolf dash their unguarded unconscious prisoner. Allison sprinted for her bow but there was no way she could make it in time. Aiden was in hot pursuit but two legs can't compete with four. Cody, in full wolf form, bounded for Malcolm, intent on grabbing his friend and escaping. He was effortlessly increasing the gap.

Cody was so close when he was suddenly thrown violently backwards. Aiden, catching up fast, pounced on top of him. Clawing, biting and pulling at Cody's hair. Cody threw the twin off and looked at Malcolm more carefully. Livid with rage he howled as he jumped over Jackson's Porsche and raced into the distance.

"What happened? I thought for a second there this was all for naught!" Stiles exclaimed, briskly walking towards the unconscious Malcolm. Around the unconscious prisoner was a ring of mountain ash. Stiles stood puzzled before looking immediately to Lydia. The red head was sat on his jeep, calm and regal. She held an empty jar.

"Had to be safe" She spoke, quiet and somber. Stiles huffed in relief and pride before running over and pulling her in for a hug.

**Derek's Loft:**

"Are you sure we can be here?" Allison asked.

"Well, the place is still in his name. He isn't using it." Stiles reasoned. He looked around the place; the roof was still broken from the fight with the Darach. The broken shards of glass had been cleared up and the windows cleaned. Stiles looked at the twins.

"Ok muscles. Let's dump him near the stairs. That's where we can chain him. I've got the mountain ash."

"Dude…" Scott said, looking at their prisoner. "You guys could have gone easier on him. It'll take him a while to wake up."

"Oh we did go easy on him." Aiden smirked.

Malcolm was chained to the stairs by his arms. Stiles poured a ring of mountain ash around him.

"The guy who escaped called him Malcolm. Did you get a load of that other guy?" Stiles exclaimed. "That's what we're up against… a whole pack like him."

"Does no one realise how much trouble we're in…" Lydia spoke quietly. "We were meant to catch them both… we HAD to catch them both."

Stiles looked at her in sudden realisation.

"They know…"

"What… do we do now?" Allison whispered.

"Look through their stuff, see what there is." Lydia suggested.

"We need to get as much information we can out of him. As soon as we can…" Stiles said, pointing at Malcolm. He then turned to look at Scott. "And you… have a date with Morell."

**Beacon Hills care home:**

"Not today darling…" Gerard smiled, holding the nurses hand. "I have visitors soon."

The nurse rolled her eyes and left, an old geezer's sponge bath could wait. Before long a man in his fifties walked in, wearing an ugly trench coat and a square beret.

"Do they not bath their residents in this dump? You old prune." He grumbled.

"How's your daughter? Oh I forget… she's dead." Gerard said with a sneer.

The two men stared at each other for a few seconds then burst into laughter.

"My old friend, how long has it been? You've seen better days." The man said.

"What can I say? I have cancer beat. My better days may have gone but my glory days are still yet to come."

"The Cavere I take it?"

"What have I got to lose? We're going to hunt them down! Like animals! We'll be legends!" Gerard stopped and coughed violently, black gunge leaking out of every visible orifice. His visitor made a face.

"Disgusting. One step at a time you old fart. If we're to do this… we're gonna have to be careful, calculated."

The man pushed Gerard out of his room on his wheelchair. It was high time he got out of there. They passed a few other residents but otherwise discreetly left the building. Following Gerard's instructions the man drove them out of town, taking twists and turns. After a short journey they parked outside an old warehouse, abandoned when the steel industry moved states.

"Is this it? It doesn't look like much."

"Looks can be deceiving Jonathan, you of all people should know that."

The man clicked his tongue in frustration. "How many? How many families agreed to this?"

Gerard flashed him a crooked, black smile "All the ones with a damn spine. I tell you, we have over a hundred strong."

**Elsewhere:**

Cody was beyond outraged. He had raced through the woods tearing apart everything that moved, he left a bloody trail of dead deer and birds. His transformation had removed him of clothing, forcing him till wait till dusk to return to the car only to find it, as he expected, stripped of everything. He no longer had his phone, his keys, his pride. In a fit he slammed himself against the car, over and over, taking out his frustration on the vehicle. To add insult to injury he had only managed to mark one person during the fight earlier and he had split off from the others, he hadn't the slightest idea where they took his best friend. His alpha wasn't going to be pleased. Several hours later he broke into the hotel room he was staying in. He was hurt and humiliated, his hotel room was on the fourth floor, forcing him to change back and climb several windows in the nude. After getting dressed, with tears in his eyes, he rummaged in the drawers for the spare phone and dialled his pack.

Author's note:

Sorry about the slow updates, it's mainly due to school. Thank you all so much for taking your time to read this. I hope you enjoy it! I will try my best to keep things interesting. Again, apologies the story is progressing so slowly, next chapter will probably take a while to write and will involve a lot of talking and feelings.

In case anyone actually cared, because I'm so bad at describing people's appearances. I picture Cody's appearance as a young teenage "Cody Rhodes" and Malcolm as a young teenage "Frankie Muniz". But you can imagine them however you wish.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven:**

Stiles plopped down on his bed, sitting next to Scott. It was the day after they captured one of the Cavere scouts, who had still yet to wake up. Isaac was currently at Derek's loft with a sleeping bag ready to notify them when he did. Everyone else had gone home. Scott looked crestfallen which gave Stiles a pang of sadness.

"Dude, so he got away. Yes that complicates matters but it's not the end of the… whatever this is." Stiles tried, Scott raised his hand to stop him.

"Stiles… they killed Deucalion, Peter, wiped out thousands of packs without fail, are all alphas, and we have one of them so now they know exactly who and where we are now."

"Scott…" Stiles looked at him sadly, pain etched on his face.

"What if I moved?" Scott said sullenly.

"Dude! No! This is your home." Stiles said exasperated. "We've beaten all sorts of supernatural crap, we can… we can beat them too."

"How do you know that?" Scott said, giving him a look like he was stupid.

"I don't ok! But why sit and mope around Scott? What is that gonna do?" Stiles got off the bed and started pacing around the room, kicking his old toys about as he did. "We took a lot of stuff from their car, Lydia dropped it all off at Deaton's on her way back. She told him to call us if anything important came up. We need to know more information; we're still wallowing in the dark…"

"I won't be able to talk to Ms. Morell till Monday."

"We could just turn up at her door." Stiles suggested and Scott looked up, realising it was a possibility. "That Cody person who got away has probably told his pack what has happened. We can't waste any time Scott."

Scott dropped his head into his arms.

"We fucked up Stiles. We fucked up. He got away. Deaton said we had maybe months but now they're going to come real soon." Scott's voice had dropped scarily quiet. "I'm sorry Stiles. I wish… I wish were the way they used to be."

Stiles stood silently for a moment before kneeling in front of his best friend, putting his hands on Scott's knees.

"I hate this Scott, I hate this crap so much but I know one thing. Everything we've been through, I don't regret it one bit. It's made us friends, heck it's made you a fricking alpha." Stiles paused. Scott raised his head and looked at him. "It brought us even closer, huh? Who could have thought that even possible?" Scott sighed and smiled.

"Scott, you're my best friend. We've known each other almost our entire lives." Stiles stressed. "We'll get through this, together. You, me, Lydia, Allison, Isaac, Jackson and heck even the evil twins. You're not moving away. This is our home, our lives, our families and it's worth fighting for."

Scott nodded and smiled. Stiles extended his hand out and Scott took it, Stiles pulled him onto his feet and they shared a hug. "Yeah, we messed up yesterday, big time, no denying it. But we're going to be alright. I've been thinking…"

Scott's phone rang, it was Deaton calling him. Click.

"Scott! I've looked at the stuff you confiscated. Some of these items are most interesting. Come over here as soon as you can, there's more than one surprise waiting for you."

**At Deaton's Clinic:**

Stiles parked his Jeep in the car park behind the vets. The two boys entered the clinic side by side. As they made their way to the back Scott wrinkled his nose. He felt something, a familiar presence. Whoomp! Turning through the doorway, Stiles walked right into a tall brooding figure and fell onto his rear.

"Derek!" Scott exclaimed. "You're back!"

Stiles scrambled backwards, doing a double take, before getting up while laughing and spread his arms wide to give Derek a welcoming hug. Derek raised an eyebrow in amusement and stuck his hand out, pushing the oncoming boy backwards. "No."

"Dude, not nice…" Stiles pouted. "We didn't know if you were ever coming back."

"Stiles" Derek said, greeting them. "Scott."

"Sorry… about, you know… Peter." Scott grimaced, Stiles nodding along.

Derek nodded solemnly. "He was family." He put simply, the look of weary loss evident on his face. At this moment Deaton came bustling in, his arms holding a box full of various bits and bobs. He looked rather pleased with himself. Smiling he put the box done and beckoned them all forwards to the operating table.

"You let the other scout escape." Derek chastised, looking at Scott and shaking his head. "I can't belie…"

"Yeah, yeah, we've been over that." Stiles added, rolling his eyes. "So why did you leave? How did you know?"

"I've known about the Cavere for a long time, stories from my mother." Derek said. "I've been away searching for information that could help. Deaton filled me in on what has happened here while I was away. Cora left Peru few days before I did, has she returned?"

"Dunno, haven't heard nothing from her. What did you find?" Scott spoke. Deaton raised his hand; the rest of the room fell silent. He dug his hand into the box and pulled out an ancient looking gun.

"That's what Jackson picked up…" Stiles said, recognising the object. Deaton nodded and pointed the gun directly at Stiles and pressed the trigger.

Stiles blanched and threw his hands up defensively. Deaton chuckled at him while Derek snorted.

"It's not loaded!"

"Don't do that!" Stiles gasped.

"Beautiful artefact isn't it? Easily over a hundred years old. You can see Charles de Vere has inscribed his name on the handle. I assume it was made for him."

"What's it do?" Derek interrupted.

"These all runes carved into the barrel are Asian in origin. If it shot a normal human being, say me or Stiles, it would have been the same if we had been shot by any other gun. However, if the victim is a werewolf, their lycanthropy and therefore their powers are temporarily disabled."

"That's good!" Stiles said. "We have it now. How long is temporarily?"

"A few hours maybe, I'm not sure. Stiles, if they have one gun then why not have two or three? Or maybe even a hundred? All we know is that we have this one."

Stiles bit his lip and nodded, acknowledging the situation. "But can we counter it?"

"As a matter of fact yes, my sister is sorting a few things out. I had to call in a few favours with her."

"What's she doing?" Scott asked.

"Whatever she can" Deaton shrugged. "Go see her at school."

"Are those cell phones?" Derek asked quizzically. He reached into the box and took out a two identical phones.

"Dude, what century are you living in? They're brand the new…" Stiles said in awe. He reached out for one but Derek swatted his hand.

"These hold information, names and contacts. How do we access that?"

"We need someone who can hack into…"

"Danny" Stiles said at once.

"Who is that?"

"Oh I'm sure you remember him… Miguel." Derek growled in annoyance.

"Can I give these phones to you Stiles?" Deaton asked. "Convince Danny."

"Sure that will be easy…" Stiles moaned, sarcastically.

Scott had been rummaging around the box, taking out various papers.

"Guys, I found their licenses. Their full names are Cody Black and Malcolm Wilker, both nineteen."

"Don't believe that's their real age for one second." Deaton warned.

"I also have their wallets, some cash, credit cards, and some old tickets, nothing else." Scott continued as he kept digging. "Some water bottles, some alcohol? I thought it doesn't affect us."

"You can still taste it" Derek shrugged. Scott and Stiles looked at him. "What? I'm over twenty-one."

Deaton sauntered over and pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket, on it were some instructions and diagrams, hand written.

"Here boys, I think you'll find this interesting. I found it in Mr. Black's wallet." They looked over the sheet for a few minutes, Stiles being the first to comprehend the note.

"So this is how they track down werewolves… they have to mark them first… with hot blood. So it doesn't matter if you're an obvious beta or scent hiding alpha, they'll find you. It's the whole point of scouts…"

"How do they know they've marked everyone?" Derek questioned.

"Some sort of spell or ritual." Scott said at once. "Remember what Cody said when we cornered him? That we can't all be werewolves? That "Malcolm here did his voodoo crap"."

"Ok… but then how do they know WHO?" Derek elaborated.

"That we don't know… these scouts though, they were at school." Stiles replied. "Can you two do this? Boil your blood and… shoot a claw?"

"No" the two werewolves replied in unison.

"It's the first I've heard of something like this." Deaton admitted. "But remember, this pack… they claim to be the "cream of the crop" of all werewolves. They are bound to possess… extraordinary talents."

Stiles snorted. Derek clenched his first. Scott nodded silently. Deaton made to take back the sheet.

"Wait… wait just a damn second!" Stiles said suddenly in panic. All heads turned to look at him. "Isaac! This means they marked Isaac!"

**Derek's Loft:**

Malcolm stirred slowly. Opening his eyes was painful, and his head still hurt and his parts of his body stung all over. He hadn't fully healed yet, the twins had done a good number on him. He room was spinning at first, only after a good few minute did he fully regain consciousness. He moaned gently in pain before surveying his surroundings. His arms were tied behind his back to the railing of a spiral staircase, as hard as he tried he couldn't budge. He noticed he had been sat cross legged in a ring of mountain ash. Someone had also removed his shoes for some reason. He couldn't see his best friend anywhere and wondered if he was ok.

"Fuck." Malcolm muttered to himself. The pack was never going to let him forget this, caught by a lowly rag tag bunch of teenagers in a small town.

"You're up!" A voice said from above him. Malcolm slowly arched his painful neck up to see Isaac gracefully descend down the stairs. "You've been out cold a while." Isaac remarked coldly.

"Where's… Cody?" Malcolm panted quietly. His throat was parched.

"We killed him." Isaac said calmly. Malcolm snickered.

"Bullshit, I can tell."

"Worth a try" Isaac said, showing no emotion. He reached into this pocket for his phone to inform his pack their prisoner was awake just as Scott, Stiles and Derek burst into the loft. Isaac whirled around in confusion before realising who they were.

"Derek? You're back? Guys, ever heard of knocking?" Isaac said, frowning.

"Why? Are you two having a little heart to heart?" Scott teased.

"Well he's awake… nice timing."

"Isaac, I need to talk to you." Derek said sternly.

"Huh?"

"It's about an injury you sustained in the fight." Derek beckoned Isaac over who obliged. Scott and Stiles slowly approached Malcolm who looked up at them defiantly. Stiles kneeled down in front of the prisoner and clapped his hands together smiling his signature evil grin. Scott sat down next to him and rolled his eyes.

"Mr. Wilker." Stiles said, Cheshire cat grin on his face. Malcolm growled gently. "How are you feeling today? Last I checked you weren't doing so well."

"You fucked up."

"Oh did we now?" Stiles said, cocking his head.

"Cody, he escaped." Malcolm was smirking now.

"Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. What's for certain is that you're here now, trapped and alone…"

"And alive" Malcolm snorted. "Know what that tells me? You need me. You don't know squat about us and you're in desperate need of information. You have no idea what you're doing or what you've gotten yourselves into." Malcolm perked his ears slightly at the two werewolves in the corner. "And now you know we know where that beta is, at all times. Right now he's in the same room as me."

Stiles swore inwardly but kept up his confident façade. Scott looked at him expectantly.

"Know what all that crap tells me? You're scared. You're tied up and sitting in a circle of mountain ash not knowing if someone is even coming for you. What you do know is that I'm here, and as you said need information, "desperately"." Stiles said, his fingers air quoting Malcolm, mocking him. "But because your friend got lucky and escaped, we have less time together. This forces us to resort to more… drastic measures."

"Again freckles, I can hear your heart, that snippy, scared little beat. We're the strongest pack that ever was or will be, there ain't a doubt they're coming for me. I ain't telling you…"

Scott suddenly moved forwards slamming his hands onto the floor. Malcolm flinched sharply.

"Jumpy are we?" Scott grinned. "Guess what Malcolm; I can hear your heart too."

"You're… the true alpha." Malcolm whispered.

"Yeah, I am. And that snippy, scared little beat of YOURS is going to tell me everything I want to know."

"I…"

Scott reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out the old pistol they confiscated. He clicked it open, showing his prisoner the gun was loaded. Malcolm took a deep breath, his chest started to rise and fall rapidly in panic, desperately trying to hear Scott's heartbeat to tell if this was all a bluff. Isaac noticed this from across the room and in surprise he looked at Derek for answers.

Derek looked at Malcolm and found he could only feel pure hatred for the boy, they killed Peter and now they've marked Isaac. "Don't worry; we're not like them, it's just to scare him a little. Gun's full of blanks. It was my idea." Derek snarled quietly enough. Isaac nodded, understandingly. He sighed, "To clarify, these Cavere scum … know where I am… at all times?"

"No." Derek said, looking down at his feet. "Just the one who marked you, but in a wolf pack… essentially it's all of them."

Isaac gulped. "So… what do I do?"

"Either keep moving or go somewhere safe, like Deaton's."

"What… live there?"

"The walls of his clinic are embodied with mountain ash, stay there until this is all over."

"Over? It hasn't even begun Derek!"

"… I know." Derek murmured softly.

Malcolm was looking from Stiles to Scott and back again, both their heartbeats were steady. Stiles had managed to calm his down; it was no longer fast and jumpy. They were in control here, and it dawned on him he might not make it out in one piece.

"You recognise this surely," Scott said.

"And you know what happens if we shoot you with it." Stiles added, folding his arms.

"You're bluffing… you need me…"

"Don't sound so sure all of a sudden." Stiles cooed. "You won't die if we pop you in the knees, or here, or here." Stiles nudged Scott gently. Scott, still holding his poker face, clicked the gun and placed the tip directly on top of Malcolm's left knee cap. Derek and Isaac strode over, both doing their best to look calm and intimidating.

"Wait… wait!"

"We saw you fight, if you can call it that." Stiles said. "You're not a fighter. The way everyone has been talking about you bullies, makes you guys sound like the jock table in high school, the top of the food chain, the "best" there are. Your mate turned into a mutt, what can you do?"

Malcolm stared at him defiantly, not saying a word. Stiles rolled his eyes and looked at Scott who waggled the gun, reminding their prisoner of his position. Derek snorted at their inefficiency; walking behind Stiles he roughly booted him on the backside, knocking him aside.

"DUDE!"

Derek knelt down in front of Malcolm in the spot Stiles occupied two seconds ago.

"You talk too much" he growled before giving the captured scout his full attention. "Name!" He said in a cold tone.

"Huh?"

"NAME!" Derek barked. Malcolm shrunk back.

"Malcolm Wilker." He whispered.

"See THIS?" Derek flashed his eyes blue. "I have EVERY reason to bite your throat out. Kill an alpha, become one. And you are one sad excuse for an alpha." Malcolm whimpered under Derek's crushing gaze. "WHERE is the other scout?"

"Fuck off!" Malcolm tried.

"Last chance. WHERE IS YOUR VERMIN OF A FRIEND HIDING?"

"No, no no no…" Malcolm spat, shaking his head frantically.

Derek looked at Scott. "Shoot him."

"Whaaa?" Scott said, taken aback.

"Shoot him! Knees, now!"

"What? No! You said just to…" Scott tried.

Derek swatted Scott's arm aside, snatching the gun from him.

"WAIT" Malcolm screeched. BANG. There was a small moment of silence, where everything went still, as Stiles, Isaac and Scott tried to make sense of what just happened before the loud scream brought them back to their senses. Malcolm was writhing in his bonds, blood spouting out his left leg. He was yelling and cursing and begging all at the same time. The fact he was tied up and had less room to move made the pain all the more excruciating.

"You have two knees." Derek said, pointing the gun at the other.

"THE MOTEL!" Malcolm screeched out behind clenched teeth, tears welling in his eyes.

"All of them?" Derek snarled loudly, waving the loaded gun. Stiles pushed himself away from the spectacle in horror, this wasn't what he had in mind. It was so violent and unnecessary. Scott turned his way and Stiles could see from the look of horror on his friend's face that he felt the same way. Isaac was transfixed, not sure what to think or do.

"Derek! Stop!" Scott tried only to be shoved away.

"Thee… white… stag…" Malcolm managed to whimper out through his blubbering. Tears were now streaming down his face and snot leaked out his nostrils. His knee was still bleeding considerably, a pool forming beneath his twitching leg.

Derek stood up, not looking at anyone. "Scott! With me."

"We're going there? Now!?" Scott asked aghast.

"Yes, while the other scout is still alone." Derek barked, marching towards the door.

"And what if he's not there? Or gone genius?" Stiles yelled at the man's retreating back.

"We find clues." Derek retorted.

"I'm coming too!" Isaac said.

"And tell him we're coming?" Derek said, looking at Isaac as if he was brain-dead. "Deaton's, GO."

Isaac obeyed, grabbing his coat and leaving the loft. Derek turned to Stiles, "Call Allison or whoever, make sure someone is watching him." He beckoned at Malcolm, who was now gently sobbing.

"Errr…" Stiles tried to reply but Derek was already out the door, Scott on his heels.

"Derek!" Scott shouted, as they rapidly descended stairs. "This wasn't the plan! You're not thinking!"

Derek whirled on him suddenly, Scott grabbing the railing to spot him colliding into the larger man.

"You don't have a plan. The other scout marked Isaac! He is in DANGER."

"Derek you didn't see him fight! He's not like the coward we have upstairs!"

"We have the gun."

"HE MIGHT HAVE ONE TOO" Scott bellowed, throwing his arms about.

"We have taken one of their pack, prisoner! You think they'll let that go?! The other one that YOU let escape knows EXACTLY where Isaac is. We find him, we take him out. DO YOU HAVE A BETTER IDEA?"

"No but-"

"Erica, remember her? Or Boyd? NOT ISAAC, NOT ANOTHER." Derek raged, anger and pain getting the best of him, first the alpha pack and now the Cavere.

"I can get help…" Scott said, sighing defeat.

"Call them on the way. I'll ring my sister."


End file.
